


malibu nights

by plainwhiteluke



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-08-29 12:59:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plainwhiteluke/pseuds/plainwhiteluke
Summary: song fic based on "malibu nights" by LANYcan also be found on my tumblr @/plainwhiteluke





	1. 1

Calum had always thought of himself as a lucky guy. He got to live out his dream with his best friends, and he had found love at only eighteen years old. She had swept into his life when he first arrived in Los Angeles with a smile so bright Calum had thought he would melt. He had fallen for her fast, his love spilling out of his veins as his heart had clawed its way out of his chest to surrender itself to her. And she had loved him back, allowing him access to her own heart and the deepest thoughts that ran through her mind. He had seen a future in her eyes, and he loved her with everything that he was. She would hold his hand in hers and whisper in his ear and she loved him.

Until one day she didn’t anymore.

Calum had been on tour when it happened. Looking back at it, he could see the signs that he had blindly missed. She had grown distant, not calling as often or taking longer and longer to return his text messages. But Calum hadn’t been worried. He was in love, and he had been in love for four years. The ring on her finger had been a promise that he had been sure touring wouldn’t be able to break. But despite her tears when Calum dropped down on one knee and despite the countless sleepless nights of talking about a wedding and children and a future, she broke her promise.

They were in Europe when the rumours first reached him. He could see them on twitter and he overheard fans talking whenever he saw them. He saw the concerned looks the boys gave him, but he refused to believe anything that he saw. It was only a picture, after all. It was only a picture of her with some guy, sitting across from one another in a coffee shop. It hadn’t meant anything.

Then another picture surfaced. This one of the two of them leaving a club together, her fingers laced with his and her face hidden underneath her hair the way Calum’s team of media trainers had taught her to do whenever she didn’t want to appear in photos. Calum had felt confused, but still refusing to make any assumptions. He wanted to talk to her, to let her explain herself. She told him that the guy was just a friend, and that she couldn’t believe he would even think such a thing of her. Calum accepted her words. He loved her, he was going to marry her, of course she wouldn’t hurt him like that.

But then there was the video. The video that Luke tried to keep him from seeing that he ended up watching anyway. Calum wished he hadn’t seen it. The way her arms had wrapped around another man’s neck, the way her lips had kissed someone that wasn’t Calum would be images his mind would never let go of. Calum’s heart had stopped at the sight of the video, his heart breaking as he watched the way her body pressed against another man and as a pair of hands that wasn’t his trailed down her body the way Calum’s had once done.

It had only been two weeks left of the tour until he was supposed to go home to her again, their reunion a moment he had been dreaming about for months. He had called her after he had seen the video, knowing that there was no excuse for what she had done but desperately hoping that one could magically appear. She had been the love of his life, the woman he had thought he would marry and have children with. She had cried into the phone, apologizing before she choked out that she wasn’t in love with him anymore. Calum had never before been that hurt. Not even when he first saw the video had his heart ached the way it did as when his fiancé had said she wasn’t in love with him anymore.

Calum cried that night, curled up into a ball behind the curtains that surrounded his bunk. He cried into his pillow, his body aching and his heart breaking. Sobs tore through his body, leaving him feeling raw and not like himself. His friends tried to talk to him, tried to make things better, but nothing would make him feel better. He felt betrayed, and he felt hurt. She had stolen his heart four years ago with the whispered promise of taking good care of it, but instead, she had smashed it and returned it in a million pieces so small it felt impossible to put them back together.

Finishing up the tour felt like torture. Having to stand on stage singing the songs he had written for her, the words that had once been filled with sweet love now felt like bitter poison on his tongue. But despite this, he felt grateful for the distraction. Touring meant getting his shit together, it meant smiling even when he didn’t want to. It meant distractions and a schedule so fast and heavy he barely had time to think of her. It meant that at night he was so exhausted that he fell asleep before the vicious thoughts could gain control over his mind.

Being at home was the opposite.

Calum had stumbled inside a house that felt cold and strange. It was empty of her stuff, but the walls still screamed out the memories he had once made with her. The house only reminded him of cooking with her in the kitchen, of the feeling of her body flush underneath his in the bedroom, of the way her sweet laughter had filled his ear as they watched TV on the sofa, her legs tangled with his and her fingers clinging to his. She was gone, but she had left her mark on the house and no matter how many picture frames Calum smashed with his baseball bat her presence would never disappear.

The nights were especially hard. He hated sleeping alone in the bed he had once shared with you. It had been the same bed that they had bought when they were 20 and still in love, their giggles almost euphoric as they got to spend their first night in their own house together. Calum had always kept those memories close to his heart, but now they felt like daggers that sliced his skin and refused to heal. He would reach out for her when he woke up in the middle of the night, only for his fingers to find nothing but cold sheets. He didn’t sleep well, his body missing the feeling of a back pressed against his chest, his legs lonely without another pair wrapped around them.

It was during the nights that he allowed himself to cry, his body shaking as his fingers curled around the sheets of the bed. It was during the nights that no one was around to watch him with careful eyes, and it was then that he could exhale. Calum kept it all inside, the agony bubbling inside his head, pressing and pressing and pressing and demanding to be set free, but Calum pushed it all down. He had always been a private person, not speaking unless he was completely comfortable or unless he had something he felt he needed to say, but suddenly he was retreating into himself even more.

Calum found himself living like a fucking cliché, drowning himself in whiskey until it ran through his veins and made his mind go numb. But the alcohol was the only thing that would make his thoughts of her go away. It got mixed with his blood and made his eyes heavy until the image of her with someone else was blurry enough that he could breathe again. He would inhale, and then exhale, closing his eyes as his lungs were filled with air again. He found himself lying flat on his back on the grass in his backyard almost every night, the clock ticking away as alcohol burned in his throat and big, brown eyes counted stars. He would start out in bed, the panic of being alone licking at the back of his mind until it completely took over, pushing tears out of his soft eyes and scratching at his skin. That’s when he would retreat downstairs, grabbing the first bottle of whiskey he could find before he would be outside, the cold night air a welcome touch to his sweaty skin. It wouldn’t be until the bags under his eyes were even heavier than the night before and his eyes sloppy with sleep and alcohol that he would head inside again. The whiskey bottle still securely in his hand as he would collapse in the bed, drinking himself to sleep in the hopes that it would knock him out for at least a few hours before the nightmares would start again.

Calum had never before experienced heartbreak. He had met her when he was so young. He had been with girls before, but never anything serious. He had never been in love, and although he had felt a little sad when a relationship had ended he had never felt like he did after her. He had loved her for so long, giving her his heart and his mind and everything that made Calum into Calum. He didn’t know how to function without her hand in his, without her encouraging words and soft fingers tugging through his hair, without her presence right by his side. For the first time in years, he was all alone, and he was terrified.

It was one particular night when everything just felt hopeless. It was as if he could physically feel the sharp pieces of his broken heart every time he moved, scratching him from the inside, making him bleed and ache and cry. Calum was exhausted. Tired of feeling this hurt and tired of it not getting any better. It had been almost two months since the world beneath Calum’s feet had shattered, and he was going crazy. It wasn’t getting any better, each day feeling heavier without her by his side. He wanted to scream out for help, not knowing what to do or how to mend his heart. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know how.

Everything was falling to pieces, his life a mess that he felt couldn’t be fixed. Calum’s body felt heavy on sadness and grief of a lost future and the alcohol that was mixed with his blood. It was only getting worse and worse and worse and Calum felt like he was about to burst. He was so young, he had so much time to live his life but he was stuck in the vicious cycle of being hurt. Calum wiped at the endless stream of tears, wanting to forget but not being able to, his mind screaming for her her her. He was so fucking exhausted, it felt like his body was giving up. He found himself wondering how much longer this could go on, if he could possibly hold on for another night feeling like he couldn’t breathe with the demons clawing onto his back.

So he got in his car, and he drove. He rolled down the windows and turned on the radio and he drove. He didn’t know where he was going, having no place he wanted to be. The car carried him further away from the house that had once been his home, his body aching a little less as his eyes focused on the road. The night was warm, the breeze licking Calum’s face as if it wanted to remind him that he was alive and breathing and living. He drove and drove, wanting to forget it all but not being able to.

Calum ended up parking his car and getting out, his feet walking without a goal. He ended up with sand in his shoes when his body eventually gave up. He sank down in the sand, knees drawn up close to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging himself as if this was the only way to stop himself from falling apart. Calum closed his eyes and tilted his head backwards, a heavy breath clawing its way up his throat.

He was so fucking tired, he was so fucking done.

And he didn’t believe in love anymore.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> can also be found on my tumblr - plainwhiteluke

It took Calum a long time to feel somewhat functional.

He refused to let anyone in after her, desperately trying to protect the shattered pieces of his heart. He also refused the help of anyone, not even wanting the friends he considered as brothers close enough that they would be able to read the sorrow in his eyes and smell the whiskey on his breath. He wanted to deal with it all on his own, the way he always dealt things.

And so he did. That night on the beach he promised himself to swallow it all. To keep it on the inside and never let anyone see the damage she had done to his heart. He was going to let it all eat him up from inside out despite the fact that he was drowning and gasping for air as the pain grew more intense and unbearable.

He wasn’t going to let anyone in. He was not going to ask for help no matter how much the lump in his throat clawed to be released in a scream. Calum sat on that beach for hours, watching the sunrise as his body ached and begged for him to just give up.

Calum didn’t give up.

It took him weeks of being locked up in his house with only the whiskey bottles and his piano as company. He wrote songs. Songs for her, songs about her, songs about them and their life, their past and their now and their future. The words flooded from his lips into messy words on the pages of his notebooks. Suddenly the songs were different to what they had once been, no longer filled with hope and love but dipped in sorrow and heartbreak. He had no plans for the songs he wrote, knowing very well that they were way too personal for having the courage to let the band give them a chance. They were a way for him to clear his mind, to let his cluttered brain rest for a few minutes as he allowed some of the feelings to leave his body. They were the kind of therapy he needed when his thoughts threatened to take over and his body felt like it was giving up.

The first time Calum left the house except for his lonely car rides at midnight was over a month since tour had ended. He draped himself over the railing that surrounded the balcony in Ashton’s bedroom, an empty cup dangling between his fingers as he watched over the distant lights that made Los Angeles shine even in the dark. He had sighed, running fingers through his mess of a hair as he watched the people that were talking and laughing and enjoying themselves down in Ashton’s backyard, casually just  _being alive_  when he was up there, crumbling to pieces.

He was not drunk enough.

Calum turned around on his quest in finding more alcohol. He pushed his way out from Ashton’s bedroom, not caring to lock the door despite the fact that the key was burning in his pocket and Ashton had asked him to do so if he were to leave. He just didn’t care, his eyes blurry and unfocused as he stumbled downstairs. He just needed to get himself to the kitchen, find some alcohol and drink himself wasted enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear his own thoughts. Then he could return to Ashton’s balcony and spend the rest of that stupid night playing games on his phone and watch the stars. He could probably pass out in Ashton’s bed, if he locked the door from the inside Ashton wouldn’t be able to come in. Calum looked down in the cup he held in his hand as he planned what he would do once he had his alcohol.

Calum turned the corner and slammed right into someone. He felt the liquid soaking through the front of his hoodie before a bottle dropped to the floor with a loud crash. Calum looked down at himself, red wine splashed across his green hoodie making it look like his chest had finally been slashed open by the broken pieces of his heart. Calum slowly looked up, brown eyes coming in contact with your face for the first time.

“Watch  _the fuck_  where you’re going.” Calum hadn’t meant to snap, but he was now soaked in wine and he was annoyed and  _exhausted_  and he did not even want to be at that fucking party.

Calum had expected your face to turn red underneath his eyes, and he realized that he was waiting for a stuttering apology to fall from your lips once you took a glance at him and realized who he was. You did not. Instead, you furrowed your eyebrows and placed a pair of hands on your hips. “This is not my fault.  _You_  slammed into  _me_!”

Calum snorted, growing more annoyed by the second. All he had wanted was some alcohol so he could retreat back to the balcony. He raised a hand and waved it in front of himself as if to demonstrate the damage that had been done. “This is all  _your_  fault. You walked into me and spilled your fucking wine all over me.”

“I-“

“You ruined my fucking hoodie.”

At that, you snorted. With arms crossed over your chest, you tilted your head back so you could look him in the eyes. “Oh, c’mon, it wasn’t as if it was  _that_  nice to begin with.”

Calum pushed past you, anger bubbling through his veins. It wasn’t as if wine on his hoodie was the end of the world. Sure, he loved the hoodie, but he could buy a new one. But his mind was a mess, and the alcohol didn’t help and he was tired and annoyed and  _hurt_  and in that moment it felt like the entire fucking universe was against him.

Tears were burning in his brown eyes, threatening to spill as his chest grew tighter and tighter. Calum had always hated parties, there was never a place where he could comfortably belong. But until that party he had always had  _her_  right by his side, her hand in his and her body tucked close to his lap as they sat somewhere secluded at the back of every party, sharing soft whispers between kisses. But now Calum was all alone, his world falling to pieces whilst everyone else laughs and drinks and has fun.

He stumbled outside, thankful for the fresh air that sipped down his throat and slowly started to undo the knots of his mind. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, sucking in a few shaky breaths as he leaned his back against the wall. He felt people stare, and all he wanted was to disappear, but suddenly it felt impossible to move. He was so tired. His body ached and begged for him to just sink to the floor and give up.

But then someone uttered his name, and Calum forced his eyes open again. Luke smiled sheepishly, the concerned look in his eyes growing as he studied Calum. He was aware that he probably looked like a mess, but he did not fucking care. Calum was about to push past his brother, not wanting the sympathy he knew rested on Luke’s tongue, knowing very well that he would break under Luke’s soft eyes if he allowed his friend to voice his concern.

But then brown eyes landed on  _you_ , and Calum wanted to groan. You stood half-hidden behind Luke’s tall frame, a new drink in your hand and with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. Calum knew what Luke was trying to do, and he was not going to let it happen. Calum moved his glare from you to his friend, who seemed unaware of the look in Calum’s eyes. “Fuck you, Luke.”

Whilst you only snorted in response, Luke seemed confused. “What?”

“I said,  _fuck you_!” Calum raised his voice slightly, the alcohol in his system made him more heated than he had intended on being. “I don’t need you to hook me up, man. I know all of you feel sad for me or whatever, but I am fine. I can handle myself.”

“That’s not-“

“And I really don’t need you hooking me up with someone like  _her_.” Calum’s eyes landed on you again, and he noticed the way your cheeks heated up. Whether that was from embarrassment or anger, he didn’t know.

Before Luke even had the chance to respond, you took a step forward, eyes boring into Calum’s with such a fierce intensity sober Calum would have felt the need to look away. But Calum wasn’t sober, and to be quite honest, he wasn’t even really  _Calum_  anymore. “Listen here, mister _I’m-so-famous_. Not every girl in here wants to suck your dick, so why don’t you stick that attitude up somewhere dark? Because quite frankly, you’re being an ass.”

Luke choked on his drink, blue eyes darting between you and Calum before he managed to speak again. “Calum, this is Y/N.”

Apparently, you were a friend of Michael girlfriend’s, and someone who had just so happened to have had an ongoing conversation with Luke when he had seen his best friend slump against the wall outside. There had been no intention of hooking Calum up for the night with some rebound sex. Instead, it was Calum who ended up looking like a dick.

You started showing up more and more, and Calum found himself almost always finding your eyes amongst the faces at every event the boys forced him along to. Calum tried joining the boys when they had plans, still determined to push it all down to the bottom of his stomach where everything would boil until every emotion eventually clawed up his throat alongside the whiskey and exited his body when he at the end of the night sank down on the bathroom floor. Calum did not want anyone to know, and whenever someone reached out with a supporting hand he stubbornly turned the other way.

The boys knew, of course. Calum had always been the soft one out of the band members. The one with the soft brown eyes and sweet smile, the one who always listened and offered quiet advice when anyone needed it. He had always been so kind, his heart big enough to squeeze in all the people he loved. But then his fiancé broke the engagement and crushed his heart with a sledgehammer and the Calum they used to know was gone. Left was only the shell of the boy they had grown up with, his kindness replaced with a grief that seemed to slowly take over his life. He was consumed by it, his eyes drowning in unshed tears and his face displaying such obvious pain it made the boys ache for their best friend.

Calum was spiralling, and the boys noticed, despite what Calum thought was clever ways of hiding it. But they could smell the whiskey on his breath and see the way his entire body ached for  _her_  and they were more often than not the targets of his angry snaps. Calum was angry, his jaw clenched at all times and with protective claws out and ready to scratch anyone who tried to come close with their sympathy. Calum was falling apart, losing a bit of himself each day, and it was so painfully evident that his body and soul and mind were all exhausted and only minutes away from falling apart.

They didn’t know what to do. They didn’t know how to help him or how to make him feel better. He refused any type of help or kind words, hiding away in corners and secluded rooms even when they managed to drag him out from his house. His brothers were hurting for him, their own hearts aching in their chests at the sight of Calum so broken. They were careful around him, not wanting to upset him any further. And so everyone else started to treat him with carefully chosen words and small smiles without eye contact. Until you came along. You were very much aware of Calum’s heartbreak, but that didn’t stop you from calling him out whenever he was being an asshole. Calum, and everyone else, were taken aback at first when you would snap at him for his snarky comments. Calum found himself not wanting to be around you, your mere presence making his body twitch in annoyance as he would await your loud callouts.

But the more you came along the more Calum realized he was getting used to you. Whenever he walked inside one of the boys’ houses his eyes immediately searched the place, and he would frown as soon as he realized his mind was looking for you. It wasn’t that he enjoyed you pointing out his flaws or making him frustrated, but he found himself being relieved that at least one person wouldn’t treat him differently for what he was going through. Because all Calum wanted was for no one to know about his hurt, but it was always extremely obvious that everyone tiptoed around him with sympathy in their steps. It was refreshing to know that someone would treat him like the human being he tried so hard to be again.

It was late that one night when Calum found himself sitting on Michael’s kitchen floor with his back against the wall, a bottle of alcohol comfortably between his fingers as he watched the people that were scattered in the room. Luke and Ashton were trying their best to get Michael’s new coffee machine to work, whilst Michael hovered over them begging them not to break it. Michael’s girlfriend was seated on the floor as well, having a low conversation with the guy that had been introduced as your boyfriend. He was also seated on the floor, legs spread wide enough so that your frame could squeeze in between them, your back leaning against his chest. Calum wasn’t listening in on the conversation, his eyes frozen on the loving hand your boyfriend had placed on your thigh. His mind was speeding, forcing him to remember the feel of her skin under his fingers. She had always been seated comfortably against his chest at gatherings like that one, Calum’s lips close to her ear as he mumbled things that would make her laugh. Calum found his chest squeezing tight as he watched a thumb trace small patterns over your thigh, painful memories breaking the thin barrier the alcohol had made and forcing him to remember the things he wanted to forget.

“Have you ever been in love, Calum?”

It was as if everyone froze as the question left your lips. Calum had not been listening, so he had no idea how the topic of love had surfaced, but he felt the tension grow as everyone awaited his reply. Your eyes stared into Calum’s, ignoring everyone else. Calum knew everyone was shocked that you had asked him the question, and he could see the concern growing on Ashton’s face as he fiddled with his t-shirt, waiting for Calum to explode in anger or burst into tears or something.

“Thought I was.” He finally replied, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. “Then I realized love is bullshit and that it doesn’t exist.”

“What do you mean,  _love doesn’t exist_?”

“I don’t believe in love.” Calum locked his eyes on your face. “It’s just chemicals.”

“So is everything else!” You had argued, leaning closer to the drunk boy seated across from you. “You’re saying you don’t believe in any emotions then? Happiness? Anger?”

“I’m not sure if I believe in anything anymore.” Calum dragged himself to his feet and stumbled a few steps before Michael’s fingers around his bicep steadied him. He felt his chest ache, and he was afraid he might  _burst_  if he stayed under the watch of so many concerned eyes any longer. “I’m going to pee now.”

After that night it was as if your eyes were somewhat softer when you looked in his direction, and although you still called him out on his bullshit Calum noticed you did so a lot less frequently. And suddenly, he was almost growing fond of your constant presence. You always showed up with your hand clutched around Michael’s girlfriend’s, a small smile on your lips as you offered warm hugs of hello. Brown eyes always snapped up when your laughter announced your arrival, and without Calum realizing it a friendship started growing. Suddenly you were part of the group, and Calum didn’t even have the time to react before you crowned yourself a friend of his.

He found himself chuckling at your jokes, suddenly smiling at his friends and offering the boys to come along to the studio. It was as if his shoulders finally relaxed a little, as if his lungs allowed a little more air to slip down his throat and as if he could finally take a step forward, slowly distancing himself from the pain of losing a future he had dreamed of for so long.

Calum’s favourite nights were the ones spent in your apartment, with everyone squeezed close together in your living room, a movie playing on the TV that everyone eventually fell asleep to. It was moments like that when he felt secure, as if having all of his friends tugged so close to him kept his body from falling apart the way it had begged to do for months. He was still so fucking hurt, but on those days his mind allowed him a short break from the terrors that otherwise haunted his mind. He could relax for a few hours, and it gave him hope. Hope that, perhaps, he could be okay again.

The boys certainly enjoyed watching that empty shell of the brother they had once known slowly being filled with  _their Calum_  again. There was a soft look in Calum’s eyes again whenever he was around his friends, his mind pressing down the sorrow until night came around and he could exhale alone in his backyard with the whiskey bottle tucked close to his chest.

Then one night they dragged him out. It had been Michael’s birthday and they wanted Calum with them at the club. He allowed himself to be pulled along, and he found himself enjoying the night with his friends. The alcohol swam through his veins as the vibrations of the loud music thumped through his body. His fingers clutched around a glass of alcohol, eyes watching his friend dance from his secure spot at the back of the club. He felt relaxed, until brown hair and soft curves so achingly familiar flashed before his eyes. Calum’s heart stopped in his chest.

_She_  was there.

Calum wanted to look away, wanted to tear his brown eyes away from her beautiful frame but he couldn’t. It was as if all the work he had done in the past five months came crumbling to pieces, the world shattering underneath his feet and the fire of pain nibbling at his skin, begging to have access to his sore heart.

She was fucking stunning, just like she always had been, and Calum felt the familiar lump of panic as it started to claw its way up his throat, pushing tears into his eyes in the process. She was with the same man from the video, his hand on her lower back as they drank together, laughed together, smiling at one another  _as if they were in love_.

Calum knew he should have looked away as she turned her face to his, pressing closer to kiss his lips, one hand lost in the man’s hair in the same way she had always pushed her fingers between his locks. He knew he shouldn’t be watching, feeling his fragile heart break at the sight of her pouring her love into another man’s hands.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, as if all the progress he had made towards being somewhat okay again burned and squeezed his lungs, making it hard to breathe.

Suddenly your fingers wrapped around his, your skin cold against his. Your hand in his the only thing keeping him from drowning as he watched the girl he had used to love smile brightly at the man at her side.

Then a soft hand cupped his cheek and his eyes were no longer on her but finding your face.  _Honey, you’re okay. Just focus on me, focus on my voice._  You had whispered, words soft and calming and Calum found himself clinging to you. He clung to the feeling of cold fingers between his, your soft hand again his cheek, calm eyes as they looked into his and your sweet voice as it filled his ears. His fingers tightened against yours, heart racing in his chest and his voice breaking softly as he spoke.  _Can we please go home?_

And so you took him home. You pulled him out of the club and into a cab that eventually parked in front of your house. Without Calum even having to utter the words, you had somehow known that going to his own house would just make things worse. Because her shadow was still lingering in the corners, the echo of her laughter and the memories of her fingers on his skin never quite seemed to be able to leave. So instead you lead him into your small apartment, allowing him a hot shower before he slid into the sweatpants and hoodie he had left behind because he knew how much you loved them. That night Calum crawled into your bed and collapsed into your open arms. With his cheek resting against your tummy, he cried.

He had never before cried in front of anyone about her. He was so damn determined to deal with it on his own, despite the fact that the grief was slowly consuming him, despite knowing that he was not going to have the energy to keep moving on if he kept it all inside and if he didn’t seek some kind of help. He was also afraid. Afraid of being so vulnerable with someone, afraid of showing them his weaknesses and giving them access to his thoughts. Because that meant trusting them and loving them and opening the door to his heart for them, and Calum was terrified of being hurt again.

But your fingers scratched through his hair, your body snaking its way around his until safe warmth surrounded him and Calum just  _knew_  that you wouldn’t use this against him. You wouldn’t judge or laugh or keep his heartbreak as a future weapon to hurt him even more. You just simply allowed him to cry.

And so he did. Fingers clutching your t-shirt as if that was the only thing keeping him alive, he pressed his face against your belly and  _sobbed_. His body shaking and aching and the shattered pieces of his heart piercing new wounds in his body at just the thought of  _her_. It was as if he was back on square one all over again, the grief consuming his mind until everything was burning and his body ached and all he wanted was for it all to end. You held him through it all, Calum’s voice going raw as the night ticked by. Eventually, it was as if he couldn’t possibly cry anymore. He was exhausted. Eyes aching as he closed them hard hard hard, body stiff and in pain as his heart screamed in his chest.

Your thumb traced his cheekbone, pushing away a few lonely tears that had yet to dry on his skin. “You’re going to be okay again, Calum.”

But he didn’t believe your words. He was too tired, too exhausted and too hurt to even think about the long process of trying to glue his broken heart back together.

“You will.” You argued, the tip of your fingers stroking the raw skin under his eyes. Your voice went soft, the sympathy in it so heavy it dragged your voice down into a whisper. “You’ll find love again.”

At that, Calum let out a soft snort. “I’m done believing in love. It’s all bullshit.”

“That’s fine, you know?” you had whispered, your fingers in his hair like a weapon against his exhaustion. Calum struggled to keep himself awake, wanting to keep listening to the addicting sound of your soft voice. “You don’t have to believe in love, because love still believes in you.”

Then Calum drifted off to sleep, still wrapped up in the safety of your arms. That night Calum slept better than he had in months.

It was as if the two of you grew even closer after that night. Suddenly you were the only one who knew the dark secrets of his mind, the one who had held him as he cried and the one who hadn’t judged him for it. You became his new whiskey, the thing that dulled his mind and made him forget.

He didn’t realize it at first, but you felt like safety the way no one had since he lost her. Suddenly he craved your presence like a drug, his eyes searching for you whenever he felt the panic creeping up his spine. He allowed you to come close, opening the door for you to see his heartbreak. He found comfort in your soft whispers and the way your fingers clutched to his when you drove to his house in the middle of the night just to sit with him in his backyard under the stars, allowing him to cry and let out the secrets of his heart.

And then Calum’s own heart ached for you when you showed up at his doorstep in tears after your break up with your boyfriend. He had tugged you close in his arms as it suddenly became his turn to be the strong one, to allow you to cry. He sank down on the couch with you bundled up against his chest, cheek against the top of your head as he listened to you talk. He listened to you talk for hours until your eyes grew heavy. He ran his fingers through your hair, a thought whispering at the back of his mind, one he would never dare to say out loud. He was happy about your break up, simply because you were his best friend and you deserved the world. And in Calum’s mind, that guy could not offer you what you that.

His affection for you grew, but slowly. Calum didn’t notice it himself, and it was as if own body and everyone else caught on before he did.

He didn’t notice the way his body always angled towards you when you were in the same room, his feet carrying him until he was next to you. He didn’t notice how his fingers always ached for the feeling of yours, or the way they always seemed to curl around yours when he was close enough. He didn’t notice how brown eyes always seemed to melt whenever they landed on your face, or how soft his smile was when he listened to you speak. He didn’t notice the way he craved your presence and the sound of your laugh.

Calum didn’t notice the way he ached less when you were around, or the way his eyes searched your face so he could add the small details to his memory. He didn’t notice of his mind seemed to be less filled with memories of  _her_ , and instead with images of you tugged close to his chest, of your bright smile and sweet eyes and loud laugh.

But then the realization slammed into him with so much force he felt breathless for a second. At first, he felt the panic build up. Licking his body with a poisonous tongue and making him want to throw up. But then brown eyes flickered up and caught your face. Your eyes were focused on the movie, knees drawn up to your chest and your bottom lip caught between your teeth. It was easy to just keep looking, your complete unawareness of his attention drawing him in even more. Your hair was wild and your laughter so soft whenever something funny caught your attention on the TV, your nose scrunching up as you turned your eyes to Luke as the two of you laughed together.

Calum felt his heart flutter in his chest as he swallowed. But before he even had the time to freak out your eyes turned to his, a soft smile curling your lips as you caught him looking. You raised an eyebrow, asking him if he was okay, and Calum felt a calm warmth wrap around his body.

Perhaps he could learn how to believe in love again.


End file.
